


Behind the Masks of Purebloods

by calrissian18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, M/M, Pining, break-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18/pseuds/calrissian18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind closed doors, the demanding society of the pureblood elite makes one boy turn from promising student to twisted soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Masks of Purebloods

**Author's Note:**

> Tom's fall from grace as a noble pureblood and his turn to the Dark, which here is intricately and artfully tangled and centered around one Draco Malfoy. 
> 
> Since this is a fairly heavily AU interpretation of events, I should probably explain the bits that are going to clash with canon. Draco's full name is Draconis - which is obnoxious, I agree, but rather necessary for that whole snooty pureblood mentality. Tom and Draco's timelines have obviously come together so they are both teenagers at the same time - I prefer to imagine Draco in Tom's time period rather than vice versa. Tom is a pureblood here - from a _long line_ of purebloods - not a half-blood. It is Victorian-esque language as well, for no other reason than I was feeling a bit of whimsy whilst writing it.

 

"—steeped in tradition," Tom heard his father's voice finish. More warnings, reprehensions and thinly veiled demands. He could make the speech himself and therefore paid it no heed.   
  
His smirking green eyes studied those in the opulent ballroom. Elderly wizards and witches, noble and pure, stood discussing the most recent tides of their society.   
  
His father's dialogue reached its crescendo and he sighed tiredly, finishing, "I know you think nothing of our customs but do try and enjoy yourself, Thomas."

"I shall do my very best, Father," Tom replied, ever the obedient son.

His father's voice was both stern and amused.  "I'll settle for you not disrupting the practices."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Tom assured, his hand leaving his glass to wave his father off with an air of disregard.

His father nodded and his voice was leaden with weight.  "I should find your mother. Keep her away from the spirits."

"Yes, indeed you should," Tom agreed with ice in his tone, his eyes still flickering from face to face, continuing their perusal of whom would make the best splash for the night. What elderly gent would fall privy to his rebellious tendencies?

His father made as if to leave, his shoulders hunching when Tom whipped out a pale hand.  "Wait. Father, who is he?"

His father looked in the direction Tom's eyes were flashing and said thickly, "The blond fellow? If I recall correctly, that would be Lucius Malfoy. Personal advisor to the Minister. Has quite a lot of pull if the rumors are true. It's a very powerful family that he conducts."

Tom rolled his eyes.  Sometimes it was difficult to believe he was related to such a mindless peon who cared for nothing but politics. "The boy, Father," he intoned slowly. "Who is the boy?"

His father's eyes redirected and he lost himself in thought.  He eyed Tom closely.  "I believe his name is Draconis. A right proper name," his father said, envy sharpening his inflection.  He flipped through his expansive knowledge of the Ministry and began speaking banally.  "I believe he's interning underneath his father. It's very hush, hush of course. The boy being so young."

His father studied him more closely, his bleary hazel eyes noting his stance and the regal way he held himself. He coughed and said, "They say he has the same, ah, attributes of his father. Very manipulative, very cold, very ambitious."

His father's gaze slipped back to Tom and he gave him a meaningful look, clapping a hand on his shoulder.  "An alliance between the Riddles and the Malfoys could be quite powerful, Thomas. Do think on it." Politics.

"Oh I intend to, Father," Tom answered more to himself, his finger playing along the rim of his champagne flute.

Tom became more enraptured with the boy as the evening progressed. He was captivated by the blond's refined movements - which were clearly considered furiously while appearing nothing but fluid - his prominent hair that seemed to monopolize the soft illumination of the ballroom's chandelier, and his polished steps as he danced ceremoniously with the partners that were expected of him.

He was never caught off-guard or in anything but a state of complete control. Tom's interest was more than piqued.

It was after a particularly eye-catching number on the ballroom floor that Tom approached him. He bowed low, his right arm across his stomach, his left behind his back, as was the custom. Tom straightened and the formal gesture was returned with an understated elegance.

Tom's eyes danced over the blond's features, drinking in his radiance, while the other boy's focused squarely on the green of his eyes and never once wavered.

Tom offered his hand to the boy with poise and queried confidently, "You lead beauteously. I wonder, could you follow half as gracefully?"

The blond boy regarded him intently, his gaze traveling over him without approval or rejection. A hint of reprimand flashed in his eyes and he finally answered with cosmopolitan amusement, "You are either quite brazen or impressively ignorant."

Tom perked a brow. "Or perhaps a collusion of the two? I like to think I balance both deftly."

The blond's lips tilted up and he studied the outstretched hand before him. His own stayed clasped behind his back so Tom had no doubt of his, however polite, refusal.  "I am afraid I could not engage in something so improper."

"You have no desire or you are frightened of the repercussions?" Tom questioned pryingly.

"Believe that I have desire, friend," the blond intoned while his quicksilver eyes burned with it. "However, our subtle customs are finite. It would not do to draw attention to our impetuous destruction of them."

Tom smiled at him, his tone almost conniving.  "Then you intend to destroy them, just not within view?"

The blond smirked seductively, his voice lowering to a shiver-inducing husk.  "I intend to do a good many things tonight that would cause a great deal of these wizened wizards to bat more than just an eyelash."

And with that he dismissed himself, leaving Tom fascinated and more than half-hard.

Tom found him again a few hours later, his smile looking a little more forced and his flowing actions a little more worn. Tom mirrored the blond's easily attractive stance before leaning over and purring, "I have yet to see your tour-de-force misdeeds."

The blond's eyes sparked, life coming back into them with the return of an alluring challenge.  "Ah, but you are not meant to see them. It is behind closed doors that we become who we truly are."

Tom leaned back and dismissively responded, "Of course, the theory that we all wear masks."

The blond cocked his head to the side, flaxen tresses obscuring molten silver.  "You do not agree?"

"Perhaps we are more truthful than we believe ourselves to be," Tom breathed while his eyes traced the edges of the blond's lips. "Masks crack, glaze flakes, porcelain chips. I think we are more revealing than we intend. And you?"

The blond's eyes glittered with intensity.  "I believe those we aim to invite through our doors see more than we determine, whether we know of our aim or are ignorant of it. There's only so much you can conceal from those you desire close. The faces we put on for those we do not, those are our masks. And they are inherent to our survival."

"And whom do you desire close?" Tom inquired, swirling his drink with feigned nonchalance.

The blond smirked at him, his gaze hungry.  "Such an insinuating question, a folly of youth. If you have to ask, then you were never meant to know."

 

♕

  
"Draconis," Tom greeted civilly.  


"Thomas," Draconis returned.

"Lucius," Tom's father said, grasping Lucius Malfoy's hand.

The stoic blond nodded.  "Thomas."

Tom's father placed his hand on Lucius' back while Lucius' lip raised in derision. "I have recently stumbled upon intelligence that suggests you as a viable candidate for Minister in the upcoming election?"

Lucius didn't bother to answer, preferring instead to flick a piece of imaginary lint off his shoulder. Tom's father continued undeterred.  "Your skill in the handling of the goblin dissent most likely propelled you to such a coveted position. I do not envy you the daunting task of gaining followers and balancing politics with pureblood tradition—"

Tom pulled Draconis away and indicated the social affair of the year.  "Have you ever seen such an aged gathering?"

Draconis smiled and pretended to study their companions with serious contemplation. "I am impotent to call forth a rival."

Tom's mouth tilted into a teeth-baring grin.  "I've missed you."

Draconis seemed surprised, his eyes dropping from Tom's. He regained himself easily.  "Will you force me to remind you that we know nothing of each other?"

Tom cocked an eyebrow.  "Surely a mind such as yours could not deem that as truth?"

"You assert that we are familiar?" Draconis asked mockingly. He let out a practiced, scornful laugh. "Kindred spirits, I'm certain."

"You assert that we are not?" Tom queried, feeling heated. "I believe I have watched you more closely than even you have realized. I am acquainted with you outstandingly well, Draconis." The boy's eyes widened and his gaze swept over the mansion instead of Tom's face. Tom redirected it by grabbing his chin and said victoriously, "You suddenly become so invested in the scenery when I've said something you can't readily refute."

"Impressive," Draconis muttered, daunted.

"I should hope." Tom gestured around them.  "Come away with me. Tear your gaze from this farce."

Draconis pulled him into an alcove as soon as they reached the landing, guarded stoutly by a gargoyle, his hands slipping under Tom's robes and up his shirt. He kissed him as fiercely as he had considered him. His eyes stayed open on Tom's face, watching his reactions as he thumbed a dusky nipple.

His tongue slid in and out of Tom's mouth while Tom tried desperately to clear the fog from his mind and do more than cling to Draconis' shoulders. Control. Draconis was truly never without it.

Draconis pushed Tom harder against the wall, grinding his manhood over Tom's, thrusting his hips while Tom moaned and pulled at him.

Draconis bit Tom's lip hard and Tom gasped as he thrust his tongue in more powerfully. Beautifully pale hands twisted up in his thick raven hair and forced his neck to arch sinfully.

Tom wrapped his legs around Draconis' waist as Draconis pounded him brutally, dragging their arousals together. Tom initiated a kiss and moaned when he felt Draconis relent to his probing tongue.

"You are exactly as I imagined you to be," Tom panted, his fingers tangling in gossamer soft silver as he came with Draconis' name hovering on his lips.

 

♕

  
"Thomas," Draco greeted him softly, extending a hand Tom knew was exquisite to the touch.  


"Draconis," Tom returned, cradling the velvety skin.

They did not waste even an ounce of energy on pretense. The coat room was the first empty dwelling they found and Tom collapsed with Draco on top of him. Draco ripping off his robes and devouring his chest.

Tom twisted his hand in silvery hair and placed the other over his eyes as he exhaled, "Draco, my love, my heart, my mind."

Draco parted Tom's legs, his teeth and nails leaving marks wherever they strayed. Oil from a decorative broken kerosene lamp served to ease the way as Tom was penetrated by the man he loved.

 

♕

  
"Immortality is a rather vague and abstract notion though, is it not?" Draco inquired, his naked body pressing closer to Tom's as the thin blanket did nothing to ensure their warmth.  


Tom placed his hand on the silken thigh that was thrown over his waist.  "There are ways to attain it, Draco." He brushed white-blond hair from his lover's brow and watched his face intently.

Draco laughed gloriously, his fingers playing in the lush grass.  "And why would you want for eternal life, Tom?" He faced him and his eyes flared with amusement.  "What does forever have to offer to a boy like you?"

Tom sat up on his elbows, closing his eyes to the feel of Draco's fingers tracing patterns on his chest.  "Can you not imagine it, Draco? No longer living with the fear of death blackening your heart?"

Draco's eyes looked out on their surroundings unseeingly. The moonlight splashed over them, making Draco's pale skin and blond hair almost translucent. Shadows glinted off the lake and rippled over Draco's contemplative features, making him look older and wrinkled.

The stars twinkled in the sky and Draco turned to Tom abruptly, saying in a hard tone, "You are an idealistic fool, Tom. Do you not realize that it is death that drives us, that forces us to take risks, to seize the moment, to _live_?"

"You cannot honestly tell me that you would not want to live forever." Tom's voice was passion-strained, his gaze hungry.  "To see what the future holds with your very own eyes. To revel in the power that would come with eons of knowledge."

Draco's eyes glittered.  "And watch my friends, and parents, age and eventually die? To have the only world I recognize become outdated? To watch my home demolished as society evolved around me while I was left in the wake of its progress? I can state quite truthfully that I yearn for not one of those things."

Tom's face fell.  "Even if I could promise you forever, by my side, you would want for none of it?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably.  "It's much too high a cost for immortality, Tom."

Tom stroked Draco's cheek.  "It doesn't have to be one of us, Draco. It could be—"

Draco flinched away from him.  "Don't you dare finish that sentence. Do you really think of them as lesser than us? Do you really think their lives are less valuable, have less meaning, than ours?"

Tom was at a loss and started uncertainly, "Draco, their blood—"

Draco sighed.  "Is impure, love. I know. I'm not asking about their blood, I'm asking about their value. Who's to say they don't love like us, Tom? They don't feel what we feel? If someone did what you are thinking of doing, to me, would you not come after them for vengeance?"

Tom reared back and said simply, his green eyes flashing dangerously, "No one would ever hurt you."

Draco shook his head and sat up. He wrapped his arms around his drawn knees and, resting his chin on them, mused, "I wonder, would you have even noticed me, Tom, if I had been the help rather than a guest? If my blood was common?"

Tom thought and then answered honestly, "Yes, I would have noticed."

Draco rounded on him.  "Then how could you even think of doing something so egregious? Your world is very solipsistic in its existence, no?"

Tom sat up next to him and laughed quietly, running his hand over Draco's back.  "No. Not just I, but you as well."

Draco brushed his nose against Tom's and whispered, "You are incorrigible."

Tom grinned.  "I love you."

"And I you."

 

♕

  
"Behave yourself," Draco said amusedly while his eyes flashed with seriousness.  


Tom smirked, his features knowing as he leered at Draco.  "Then how shall we pass the time, my love?"

They parted ways and made polite conversation and soul-deadening small talk with the purebloods that were revered in their circle. Tom's gaze flicked to Draco more often than not, keeping a shrewd eye on what was his.

Fury darkened his cheeks as, while he watched, a handsome boy he didn't recognize slipped an arm familiarly around Draco's waist. He excused himself quickly from the talk on the future of Gringotts, his eyes sparking protectively.

Tom easily insinuated himself in amongst Draco's crowd and smiled dangerously at the dark-skinned boy.  "Do remove your hand from my lover's waist," he hissed in the boy's ear.

Draco's eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly as a show of his disapproval. The other boy kept his eyes on Tom, a wide smile on his lips as he removed his arm.

When Tom's arm took its place and slid around Draco's middle possessively, Draco whispered in his ear, reprimanding, "You are a pureblood. Conduct yourself as one."

Mischievousness crossed Tom's features and his fingers splayed ardently over Draco's back while his arms wrapped around him domineeringly. He slid fine, aristocratic hands into overly teased hair and styled it much more unconventionally as his fingers tangled in amongst the tresses.

His mouth hovered over Draco's before he covered Draco's lips with his own.  His tongue thrust in forcefully and Draco keened against him.

Draco arched closer to him, melting as he was wont to do when Tom pressed against him.

Tom chuckled darkly as Draco followed his tongue back into his mouth, searching for more, looking utterly wanton. Draco's hands came up to clasp Tom's shoulders and he lost himself completely to the kiss, his eyes closing as he released a moan.

Tom moved away from him abruptly and Draco swayed a moment, looking dazed and debauched. Tom leaned forward and placed his lips at the shell of Draco's ear.  "Do you approve?" His eyes flashed winningly as Draco realized himself.

Draco scowled at him, deftly noticing the stares that were coming their way from his periphery.  "Must you always cause a scene?"

Tom smirked at him. "Yes, it's in my very blood," he stated, his tone heavily burdened.

Draco shifted against Tom's arm, which was still holding him tightly. He pressed down on it lightly and hissed, "Well then, must you include me?"

Tom laughed lyrically and allowed his arm to be pushed away.

 

♕

  
Tom followed Draco back to his rooms and, as soon as the door was closed, Draco hissed, "You have thoroughly embarrassed me tonight. Are you yet pleased?"  


"Quite," Tom stated, watching Draco yank off his robes and ruffle his hair while he took up residence on Draco's bed. Draco stormed around his room with purpose, ire flushing his cheeks. "You positively glow when you're furious," Tom said cheekily.

Draco glared at him.  "You shamed my family tonight, Tom, as well as the family of the one to which I'm betrothed. You know how the world views us. It is well known what goes on behind closed doors between pureblood sons but it is never discussed in polite society, and certainly never so vulgarly displayed. What were you thinking of?"

"You," Tom announced quietly. "I was thinking only of you." Tom reached out for him.

Draco sighed and finally stopped pacing. He stepped forward and carded his long fingers through Tom's shaggy dark hair, saying softly, "You are either a gullible romantic or a brash fool."

"I'm sure I've no idea what you're talking about," he said, pressing his face into Draco's stomach and luxuriating in the soft feel of fingers moving through his hair. "Will you really marry?" he asked cautiously.

Draco sighed again.  "Yes, Tom. As will you. This will be placed behind you, as it will me. We have duties, stations in our society that we have no choice but to fulfill."

"We always have a choice, love," he said with certainty and then laughed, "I sound terrifyingly like you."

Draco smiled at him as Tom brushed his face back and forth over Draco's abdomen. "Not in this, Tom. We do what tradition dictates and we do it with our heads held high. We are a phase, passé in this world that envelopes us. We must make use of what time we have."

Tom looked up at him seriously, resting his hands on Draco's hips.  "My heart will only ever belong to you."

Draco nodded.  "And mine to you. Come now, love. Enough of this dreary talk of the future. We have the here and now."

♕

  
 _ **Draconis**_ _**Lucian Malfoy espouses into the French elite; his union with the potent Greengrass family and what it means for our Minister**_  


    _Astoria Greengrass, 20, marries Draconis Malfoy, 23, in a formal, tasteful ceremony on the 2nd of this month. Both the bride and groom looked stunning as they exchanged traditional vows. Mr. Greengrass has long expressed his desire for this union between two of the most powerful families in France and Britain, respectively. The impression given by the Minister for Magic was also approving as he called his son, "A fine example of what a proper pureblood upbringing can produce."_

    _The bride seemed joyous with her fiercely heated cheeks and clear blue eyes as she caught up with our reporters who—_

Tom pushed the paper away disgustedly while his father eyed him.  "Thomas, are you still moping?"

Tom looked up at his father and studied his once handsome face that now looked nothing but tired.  He sneered.  "I am not moping, Father. I am only disappointed over the fate of a man with such immense potential. To be nothing more than a stepping stone for his father's advancement. His worth auctioned off for a merger."

"It is the pureblood way," his father agreed, sounding as if he approved.

"Then perhaps the pureblood way is faulty," Tom spat.

His father's biscuit paused on its way to his mouth.  "Surely you do not believe such a thing?"

Tom shook his head exasperatedly and waved away his father's concern.  "No, Father. I am speaking out of turn. I was merely thinking aloud."

His father gave a curt nod.  "And dangerous thoughts they are, Thomas. Draconis has done what is right for his family as you will one day do for ours."

"Of course, Father. I expected nothing less," he grumbled.

 

♕

  
Draco laughed heartily as he stood in front of his fireplace with a scotch in hand.  "And what did you expect, Thomas?"  


"Damn it, Draco! Don't you dare distance yourself from me with formalities! You know precisely what I expected," Tom shouted, turning away from Draco's cruelty.

Draco smiled wickedly.  "As you knew, without fail, that you would be rejected. What is this rashness, Tom? You are smarter than this. You rarely set yourself up for such unavoidable failure."

Tom swallowed and gathered his courage. He touched Draco's cheek and said hollowly, "Had it not been you, I would not have bothered with such things."

Draco swept his hand away, his eyes blazing.  "I am a faithful man as duty demands me to be. You know this."

"I thought, for me," Tom said, realizing his foolishness even as he said it, "you would deviate."

Draco looked at him scornfully.  "I have never known you to be so asininely optimistic, Tom."

Tom wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and said icily, "I had heard tale of your coldness but you had never displayed it so readily with me."

Draco dropped his gaze and said wearily, "Tom, I do not wish to seem cold. We are no longer lovers therefore you are no longer privy to anything but the mask. The mask you do not believe in, if I recall correctly," he added with a little quirk to his lips, as though he was throwing Tom a bone by admitting to remembering their past.

Tom pursed his lips and demanded brusquely, "I am nothing to you then?"

Draco rested a hand on his shoulder, the fire crackling in the background.  "Tom, you will never be nothing to me but we had our time and it has long since passed. It was inappropriate for you to come, what if Astoria had answered your call?"

Hearing _her_ name from Draco's lips was as good as pushing a knife up under Tom's ribs and Tom had no doubt that Draco had known precisely what its effect would be.  Tom pushed his hand away.  "That's all you care for, isn't it? What is deemed appropriate by our restrictive society."

The shadows thrown over Draco's features by the flickering fire made him look so much more worn than his twenty-three years and Tom was reminded of a youthful face painted in wrinkles by a lakeside all those years ago.  "It should be all you care for as well."

"I loved you once, Draconis," Tom said bitterly.

Draco wasn't looking at him as he said, "As I did you."

Tom framed Draco's face in his hands softly and implored him with green eyes. "Would nothing sway you? Power, love, society? I could change it, Draco. You once called me an idealistic fool but if I could give you whatever you hungered for, would you not join me?"

Draco's eyes refused to meet his.  "You forget, I also once told you that the rules of our society were finite. One man cannot create such a change, a ripple perhaps, but never a revolution. I am tied to my place within this farce, just as you are to yours." Draco's eyes bored into Tom's, a sheen over the deadened grey as he said piteously, "Our time has passed, Tom."

 

♕

  
Tom would show Draconis what one man could do. He would change the world.  He would make him regret ever rejecting someone so powerful.


End file.
